


Near Miss

by theimprobable1



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 15:07:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimprobable1/pseuds/theimprobable1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a brief coda to His Last Vow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Near Miss

Mary was talking but John couldn’t hear her, even though the plane’s engines had already been turned off. The only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, and as the door opened and the familiar figure emerged, he was hit with an overpowering wave of nausea.

“John?”

Except it wasn’t really nausea, he realised even as he felt a sick feeling rise in his throat. It was _relief_ , and it crashed over with the unexpected force of everything he hadn’t been letting himself feel, everything he'd refused to acknowledge. He’d been subconsciously counting on this – that Sherlock wouldn’t actually leave, that this wouldn’t be the last time they saw each other, that, somehow, it wouldn’t be real (so many things in John’s life had turned out not to have been real). And now it happened, and Sherlock was staying, and the only thing John could think about was what a near miss it had been.

“John, are you okay?”

He was leaning against the car – at some point his knees had clearly given up on him. He forced himself to stand up, and then look at Mary and actually see her, and the world around him felt unreal.

“Fine, I’m—I’m fine,” he managed. He _was_ fine, but he very nearly hadn’t been. Sherlock had almost left for ever – John had _let_ him leave for ever, with nothing but a handshake and a joke for a goodbye. John had almost lost him again – the thought had been so paralysing before that John couldn’t even let himself think it, but now it propelled him forwards, towards Sherlock.

“John, it’s _impossible_ ,” was the first thing Sherlock told him, focused as always, as if it weren’t a miracle they were face to face again. “I was there, I saw him shoot—“

“We’ve decided on Emily,” John interrupted him, and god, was that really his voice? “But Sherlock can be her middle name.”

Sherlock frowned at him, that well-known look on his face, the one that said, ‘The game is on, John, how can you still be thinking about anything else?’, and John was so, so happy to see it.

“What? You know I was just joking,” Sherlock said dismissively, but then his eyes softened a fraction, and John—John wanted to say “I know” or “How the hell is he still alive?” or “Do not even think of sacrificing your future for mine ever again, you complete idiot”, but instead he reached for Sherlock, who really was stupidly tall, and pulled him into a hug.

“John?” Sherlock said like he couldn’t understand what was going on, but then his arms came up around John and squeezed, and John breathed.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Near Miss [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4696316) by [Lockedinjohnlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lockedinjohnlock/pseuds/Lockedinjohnlock)




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